THE mighty silver-framed mirror gleamed in Alpha Xanthos’s bedroom as Phoenix stood before it, her chin slightly raised, watching her reflection with sharp scrutiny. Two servant girls hurried around her, adjusting the sleeves of her silk blouse and fastening the delicate golden pin at her collar. Her skirt shimmered faintly, stitched with threads that whispered wealth, while the smallest jewelry, an insignia of the Archon rested on her neck.

“Careful!” Phoenix snapped, slapping one of ...